


Obviam Parentes

by darkangel0410



Series: Mirror 'verse [2]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-25
Updated: 2012-09-25
Packaged: 2017-11-15 01:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/521417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkangel0410/pseuds/darkangel0410
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim knew their story; there wasn't anyone born into the empire in the past forty years that didn't know it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obviam Parentes

**Author's Note:**

> Chronologically set before Always Us.

Jim knew their story; there wasn't anyone born into the Empire in the past forty years that didn't know it. 

The story of how the heir to the House of Surak -the most powerful and prominent of the Great Houses of Vulcan- came to Earth and took Amanda Grayson -who, even at the tender age of eighteen, was already known for her temper and stubborn refusal to bend to society's rules for her sex- for his mate had been the most shocking thing to happen since....well, ever.

The Empire, for all it's brutality, always ran according to certain expectations and having a Human and a Vulcan run off and get married had completely thrown everything into disarray. 

And when you added in the fact that Sarek killed twenty-five people to get to his intended -from all reports it had been a complete blood bath; pictures of the scene were still handed out during Xenobiology classes at the Academy as a reminder why it was never a good idea to get in between a Vulcan and his bondmate- and that once he had found her in her father's study, with both her parents and the man they had wanted Amanda to marry there, Sarek had gone even further off the deep end. He had murdered all three of them before taking Amanda back to his ship and going back to Vulcan with her.

It was the stuff legends were made of.

And Jim had known when he started this relationship with Spock, that, eventually, he would have to do the meeting the parents thing; Vulcans weren't casual about anything, especially not relationships and bonds. Once Jim had sat down and really thought about what chasing after Spock would mean, he had seen that the day would come when he would have to meet a legend, face to face.

He'd been OK with that; his own father was a legend, even if Jim couldn't remember him, so he was confident that meeting these legends wouldn't be too difficult for him. And as sappy as it made him feel, Jim had also known that he'd go through worse if it meant he got to keep Spock at his side.

So, yeah, Jim had known all that going in -he just hadn't expected to be this nervous about any of it. 

Outwardly, he didn't give any indication that he was anything other then his usual cocky self but on the inside he was practically fidgeting with suppressed nerves. 

While they had been planning the trip -taking great pains to make sure no one knew or could guess that they were going to the same place- his nerves had been distant and easily managed; it wasn't until they were in Vulcan's atmosphere and given clearance to beam down that it started getting really bad.

The sweltering heat of the desert planet hit Jim right away; he had thought he had prepared himself for it, but, fuck, it was hot.

“We will be inside soon,” Spock murmured, the side of his hand brushing Jim's briefly; Jim felt Spock's mind brush against his in reassurance. 

“My Sa-mekh keeps the inside of our home at a much lower temperature in deference to my Mother.”

Sa-mekh, Jim knew, was Vulcan for father; ever since that moment Spock had pinned him against the wall and hissed in his ear before striding away -leaving Jim hard and aching- Jim had ferreted out, and studied, every piece of information he could find on Vulcans in general, and Spock in particular. And that included their language.

Once they had started seeing each other, Spock had started filling in the gaps in Jim's knowledge; especially once they started having sex (or, as Jim called it when he was pushing Spock to attack him, fucking on every available surface in Spock's apartment whenever they had a free minute) and Spock started talking to him in Vulcan during mind melds and sharing memories of growing up. 

It was at the point now where Jim could follow along in almost any conversation in Vulcan fairly easily and he knew what was expected from him in social situations while he was here.

As they got closer to Spock's family home, Jim could feel his nerves becoming worse and he found he could barely keep them off of his face.

Spock paused outside of the door and looked at Jim for a second before his fingers circled Jim's wrist.

Do not worry, ashayam, Spock told him, his voice soothing and affectionate in a way he would never let himself be out loud; especially in front of other people.

In the event that my parents do not agree with my choice for you as my bondmate, it will not change my mind; I will have you, t'hy'la, no matter what anyone else may want or do.

Jim couldn't help the brief shudder that Spock's words caused; he pictured himself on his hands and knees, ass in the air and moaning for Spock to fuck him.

Love you, too, Spock, Jim said, smirking internally at the low growling that filled his mind before he felt Spock withdraw from him. 

He felt his confidence return; not as strong as it usually was -meeting the parents wasn't something that he had ever done before and while his ego demanded he excel at this the same way he did everything else, Jim knew he would have to trend carefully here- but the reminder that Spock wanted him more then anything else helped keep him steady.

 

The inside of the house was as cool as Spock had said it would be; the simple, open design of said house wasn't exactly what Jim had been expecting. Except for the various weapons (what the hell was it with Vulcans and weapons, anyway; Spock had them strewn about his place, too, like he was expecting a fucken invading army or some shit) and art hung on the walls that were Vulcan in design, it was more human then Jim had thought it would be.

Amanda Grayson still looked as beautiful as she had when she was eighteen; oh, there were a few wrinkles in the corners of her eyes, and silver streaked through her hair, but Amanda had only gotten better looking as she got older.

“Spock,” Amanda said, coming forward; she briefly leaned up to press her cheek against her son's in a rare show of emotion that she felt was justified since she hadn't seen Spock in two plus years.

“Mother,” Spock returned, the thread of affection in his voice obvious to anyone who knew him. 

It amused Jim that Spock -who he knew could be practical and ruthless, cruel and savage, who he had seen act like that on more then one occasion; hell, any cadet who acted out in any of Spock's classes got a practical example of what a non-pissed off Vulcan did to people and he always did it in front of the rest of the class -why waste the real life example, after all. It was logical. 

Not to mention the fact that Spock's exploits were lauded all through the Empire and that he had his first kill, on record, at twelve when a Vulcan instructor had tried to show his class that Spock wasn't as strong, mentally or physically, as a full blooded Vulcan. After hacking into the computer system, reading the twelve page report and seeing the pictures taken of the body afterward, Jim was completely fucken gone. (Seriously, how the hell could anyone expect him to stay the fuck away from Spock after that?)

Knowing all that, it amused Jim beyond belief that Spock could show such respect and affection to the woman who gave birth to him. Of course, Jim considered his own mother a completely useless fucken cunt and would probably kill her if given half a chance, so that might have something to do with why it effected him like this. 

“I'm pleased to see you in such good health, son,” Amanda told Spock, not even glancing Jim's way. It wasn't so much that she was ignoring him, Jim realized, but that she couldn't focus on anything but Spock after not seeing him for so long; that was a side of motherhood Jim had never seen before -and he doubted he would see anything quite like it again.

“I am sorry I have not been able to visit before now,” Spock said, allowing the corners of his mouth to twitch into a slight smile when he looked down at his mother. “In between my own experiments and my classes at the Academy, I have had very little free time.”

“It's illogical to apologize for something that you couldn't help,” Amanda teased him, grinning. Her eyes glanced over to Jim and they became cold and calculating. “And after seeing your Jim, I can see why you've been so ...distracted lately.”

Jim grinned, turning on the charm but he understood the look that came into Amanda's eyes; he'd had that look directed at him since he was old enough to walk, for one reason or another. It made him glad that he had some of his knives on him. 

“Mother, this is James Kirk,” Spock told her, taking the few steps that brought them back over by Jim. “Jim, this is my mother, Dr. Amanda Grayson.”

“Dr. Grayson,” Jim said, nodding his head respectfully and offering the ta'al in greeting out of deference for her husband; Jim knew how sensitive Vulcans could be about their bondmate's touching any outsiders and while Spock had assured him that Sarek wouldn't gut him for shaking Amanda's hand, Jim had no desire to test the theory this early into the visit.

“There's no need to be so formal, James,” Amanda told him, smiling but that hard gleam was still in her eyes. “You should call me 'Amanda'.

“Spock, your father's in his study -why don't you go let him know you're here? I'll take James into the kitchen while we wait for you.”

“That is acceptable, Mother,” Spock agreed; he let go of her arm and held two fingers out to Jim.

Jim couldn't help the smirk that twisted his lips as he returned the gesture and briefly rubbed his fingers against Spock's; he knew that such a display in front of a witness was tantamount to a declaration of their intention to bond.

I will be back soon, ashayam, Spock reassured him and Jim felt a fleeting stroke of affection before Spock turned and left the room. 

Without Spock there to act as a buffer, Jim and Amanda looked at each other more openly; Jim with the same wariness and nerves he'd been feeling since they beamed down and Amanda with same cold, calculating gleam as before.

“If you'll follow me, James,” Amanda said, leading the way out of the room and into a different part of the house then Spock had left for.

Jim barely held in the wince that wanted to escape; it was going to be a long afternoon.

 

“Sa-mekh,” Spock said, his tone respectable as he stood in the doorway of his father's study. He looked around briefly; everything seemed the same as when he had last stood here 7.85 years ago.

“Sa-fu,” Sarek looked up from his PADD as soon as he heard Spock speak. He looked over his son, relieved to see him in good health even if he didn't show it. “I do not see your intended with you.”

“He is in the kitchen with Mother,” Spock informed him, taking a few steps into the room until he was even with Sarek's desk. “She suggested that I come get you while she entertained Jim in the kitchen. It was logical to acquiescence to it.”

“Logical, yes, but do you think it was wise?” Sarek asked, amusement filtering over his face for a second before he schooled his features back to impassivity. 

Spock tilted his head to the side and if it was any other being they would have shrugged. “They will have to learn to deal with each other eventually -it would be illogical not to facilitate the process.” 

Spock was in the middle of telling Sarek about one of his experiments when there was the sound of a brief scuffle followed by dishes breaking. After exchanging glances with his father, Spock turned and left with Sarek following close behind him. 

Spock didn't expect to see Amanda holding a knife to his mate's neck nor to see Jim with one of his own knives pressed against the top of his mother's neck; he hadn't expected it, but that didn't mean it surprised Spock.

In fact, as he took in the broken cups littering the kitchen floor and the way the kitchen table was 6.78 inches from where it should be, he was actually as close to snickering as he ever was. 

“That's not very nice is it, Amanda?” Jim said, casually pressing the point of his knife a little deeper into her skin. “I mean, I am going to be your son-in-law -it'd be nice if you were alive for the wedding.”

“I had to make sure you were enough for Spock,” Amanda informed him, a smirk on her face; Spock noticed the right side of Jim's face bleeding from a cut across his jawline. “I couldn't just let you bond with my only son if you couldn't protect him. Spock doesn't need a burden to carry for the rest of his life.”

Jim studied her for a second before genuine amusement flashed in his eyes. 

“First time anyone's gotten close enough to make me bleed in years,” he said and then grinned wickedly, his eyes flicking over to Spock for the barest second. “Outside of sex, at least.”

They studied each other for another minute be fore Spock heard, “He has the same eyes as you,” murmured so low Spock was unsure if he had actually heard it but he recognized the brief flash of feeling that Jim allowed Amanda to see.

They seemed to come to an agreement after that; they both stepped back and sheathed their knives at the same time. Jim moved a few inches to lean against the wall and smirked at Spock; he was practically vibrating with smugness.

As Amanda walked over to Sarek, she paused and raised an eyebrow at Spock. “You have chosen well, Spock.”

Going over to stand next to Jim, Spock could only agree.

 

Years later, after they get command of the ISS Enterprise and were firmly established as a team in their professional and private lives, whenever anyone is dumb or drunk enough to ask the Captain how he got the scar that goes along an inch or two of his jawline and stretches down to the side of his carotid artery, if Jim's in a good mood, he just smirks and says, “This? It's a reminder of how parents love me,” and let's it go at that. 

And if he's a bad mood, the question's worth an hour or two in the agony booth; no one except for green yeoman ever ask, for some reason.


End file.
